


Good (reversed) Omens

by PhantomHood



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-28 14:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20065189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomHood/pseuds/PhantomHood
Summary: Reversed AU in which Crowley is the Archangel Raphael who runs a flower shop in Soho, London, and Aziraphale is a demon who owns a vintage Harley Davidson motorbike. Just a collection of moments in their story but reversed roles just for the laughs.





	1. ?

In the beginning there was a garden, more specifically, the Garden of Eden. Raphael, or Crowley as some angels nicknamed him, became angel of the Eastern Gate of the Garden of Eden on top of already being angel of the stars and cosmos.

Currently, the angel was standing on the wall of Eden, watching the first humans who the Almighty now left to fend for themselves. Crowley’s white alb fluttered in the wind as he stretched his 3 tier wings before relaxing slightly upon seeing Adam fighting a lion, and winning. It gave him a little smile, although an anxious one. 

As the angel watched the humans a demon made his way next to him, staring vaguely at the same scene ahead of them. They stood there, like this, in silence for a few moments watching the humans in the desert.

“Well,” the angel sighed out loud, “That went down like a lead balloon.” He glanced over at the demon next to him with a certain curiosity, of course he remembered him, they were good friends before he fell but he knew the demon didn’t remember him, no one remembers anything from before their fall, and he knew this. “Oh, yes, I guess it did.” Another pause, a bit of an awkward one. Crowley glanced at the demon again before speaking, “ You know in my opinion,” he then looked upwards for a moment before lowering his tone, “A bit of an overreaction if you ask me, with this being the first offence and all,” he chuckled as the demon glanced back at him, the genuine, innocent look on the angel’s face was friendly not what he expected at all, being a demon. 

“I agree, a fruit tree with a ‘do not touch’ sign in the middle of the garden makes temptation too easy. Why not put it on a mountain? They turned out pretty enough,” the demon answered with a shrug. Crowley’s voice was still some what of a whisper, just in case the Almighty chimed in, “I don’t see what’s so bad about knowing good from evil anyway. It was bound to happen sooner or later in this world.”  
“Well it must be bad, otherwise I wouldn’t have temped them into it,” the demon answered slightly matter-of-factly.  
“I don’t know, but who am I to judge God’s Great Plan really, I’m just an angel,” Crowley stated holding his hands together in front of him. The demon shrugged and just went back to watching the humans getting along in the world.

Crowley glanced at the demon again, something was off, something was missing. He narrowed his brows and then it clicked in his divine mind. “Didn’t you used to have a flaming sword?” The angel asked, brushing some of his long hair out of his face as it flowed in the wind.

“Er…”  
“You did! It was flaming like anything, what happened to it?”  
“Er…”  
“Lost it already, have you?” Crowley teased with a bit of an unangelic smirk.  
“Gave it away,” the demon mumbled.  
“You what!” The angel would’ve nearly chocked at this if he needed air in the first place.  
“I gave it away!” The demon said, now louder, leaving the angel’s mouth agape with a bit of a laugh suppressed in his chest. “Well it’s a dangerous weapon with fire that can kill them! The man doesn’t know the first thing about swords! Therefore, it’s the ultimate sin, he gave into the temptation of wanting power,” the demon defended his action to the, still, rather amused angel.

At this point no matter what the demon said, the angel knew he was different. He still had some good in him. No matter what he said he gave the sword to them to help them, after all, Eve was pregnant, due any minute actually, and they’ve just been exiled from their home. All Crowley could think about now was that their life together in this world will be interesting to say the least.  
The newly created rain clouds began to form overhead. The angel could see the demon’s curious yet nervous reaction to this as he glanced over at him again. As the droplets started to fall on them, Crowley instinctively took his biggest wing and shielded the demon from the rain, who almost immediately took tiny steps towards him to shelter himself.

This reminded the angel of their time in heaven that was long forgotten by the demon, as well as the rest of heaven. They stood like this, in the rain, for a while just admiring the newly created world and what it holds in store for them.


	2. 11 years before apocalypse pt 1

Soho, London. 11 years before the apocalypse.

In soho there was a little, cozy, flower shop that opened somewhere in the 1800s called “A.R Crowley and Co”. This shop looked nice and sophisticated on the outside, very much fitting the time it was opened but on the inside it was, quite literally speaking, a jungle. The seller collected almost every type of plant, that always seemed to be able to grow perfectly despite the lack of proper climate needed. 

This shop is run by a mysterious seller, people who met him got 3 impressions:

1\. He’s extremely kind and patient with everyone  
2\. He’s the best gardener in England, if not the world,   
and lastly…  
3\. He’s extremely handsome so he’s probably got a great skin care routine because his face seems to never age

Now, 2 out of the 3 are true, Crowley doesn’t need a good skin care routine, he doesn’t age unless he chooses to really, but this is besides the point.

And before you ask, the angel is widely considered handsome thanks to his fashion sense as it was both fashionable and comfortable. It highlights his skinny figure nicely while making him look broad, with a beige button up shirt with the first 3 buttons completely abandoned, dark blue skinny jeans with a snakeskin belt that went well with his black snakeskin ankle boots. He rarely wore a jacket, he was scared of getting it dirty, but when he did it was just a basic blazer-like linen Jacket. This is also, besides the point.

Crowley’s business seems too good for Soho, he frequently got compliments that his plants would put any garden to shame, they were the most luxurious in London and were very generously priced for their quality.

Today Crowley had his sleeves rolled up as he worked, revealing his golden snake sleeve tattoo, made out of stars, on his right arm that he was very proud and fond of by now much like his golden snake eyes. His shoulder length hair was tied up into a half-up bun which just got the hair out of his face. Crowley was working on kneading the soil before giving it to some of his new plants, he never liked giving those small little things massive clumps of soil as he sensed their struggle it.

Just as he was finishing up his phone rang, it displayed “Angel” with a picture of the demon Aziraphale in his usual black leather jacket and pale hair. “Hello Angel,” Crowley said as he picked up the phone. “Yeah hi, um… we need to talk,” Aziraphale answered, the sound of cars and wind in the background making it quite hard to make out what he’s saying. “Don’t tell me it’s about…” the demon cut him of “Armageddon. Yes.” And with that he hang up. Crowley stares at his phone, ‘no service’. Well this is just great he thought as he shoved it back in his pocket and started clearing up the soil as he waited for the demon.

Coming back from Tadfield, a village near Oxfordshire, on his shiny, maroon, 1940s Harley Davidson motorbike, was the demon Aziraphale who groaned in frustration as the call, in his helmet, got disconnected. He started cursing himself that of all days he could’ve chosen to put down the phone lines it had to be the day the Antichrist was delivered. It just made him speed even more to the angels plant shop.

It didn’t take him long to get the shop and at a snap of his fingers the door opened and he strode in, the only thing visible behind him was his motor bike and the back on his leather jacket. It had dark grey angel wings with hell’s angel written above and below it, he was quite fond of it, no wonder actually as it was gifted to him by Crowley in the 60s.

A polite shout came from the back room “We’re closed, please come back tomorrow!”  
“What if I told you it’s your favourite demon Aziraphale with multiple bottles of Moët & Chandon,” was the reply and immediately the angel’s head poked out from the side of the doorframe “Then that’s absolutely fine angel, come right in,” Crowley smirked as Aziraphale made his way to join him in the back room.

The demon put the bottles on the table, collapsing onto the sofa afterwards. Crowley was getting the wine glasses, ready to start drinking with his best friend. Aziraphale scanned the bookshelf in the back room. He knew Crowley didn’t read and kept that shelf there for him but there’s the occasional new book that Crowley thought would interest the demon, he appreciated that yet he’d never admit it.

The Antichrist was on earth for 24 hours now while the angel and demon spent the past 6 drinking.

Crowley was spread out on the sofa with a wine glass barely staying in his grip while Aziraphale was slouching in a chair holding his glass with both hands.

“So what exactly is your point Raph?” He spat out drunkly  
“My point is…” there was a pause as he poured himself another glass. “My point is dolphins!”  
Aziraphale looked at him curiously like a child in class, “Kind of fish” he pointed out.

“Nononono. ‘S mammal I’m tellin’ you,” there was a pause, “Can’t remember difference.”  
“Mate out of water?” The demon suggested.  
“Nah, I’d know if that was. BUT! My point is…” he pointed to his head “Their brains!”  
“What ‘bout their brains!” Aziraphale started slurring now, unsurprisingly.  
“BIG brains!” Crowley made a head blowing gesture with his hands “That’s my point! Size of… size of big brains! Not to mention…” he took another sip, “Whales, brain city whales, am tellin’ you.”  
“Kraken” Aziraphale breathed, “great big bugger! Suppose’ to rise up in end when sea boils,”  
“That’s my point!” Crowley exclaimed and Aziraphale raised his brows.  
“ ‘hole sea bubblin’, dolphins, whales, everybody turning into bouillab…bouillab…” Crowley narrowed his eyes trying to say bouillabaisse “Fish soup anyway. Not their fault same with gorillas.” Crowley started going on a tangent now. “STARS CRASHING TO THE GROUND! And what they puttin’ in bananas these days!”

Aziraphale looked at him with half a thought in his brain. “You know what’s worse? When that’s all over you’ll have to deal with ETERNITY!” Crowley nodded following a similar half thought. “Kinda feel sorry for you, Gabe up there likes the Sound of Music, imagine listening to that for eternity!” Crowley scoffed with disgust written on his face. “It would be like going up the same mountain over and over and over and over and over and over!” The angel slurred.

They sat for a moment overwhelmed by the alcohol the angel spoke first. “I can’t deal with this while I’m drunk. I’m gonna sober up,” The angel announced and the demon followed.

They needed a plan for Armageddon.


	3. 11 years before apocalypse pt 2

The angel and demon sobered up with a single breath, both of them hating the after taste of alcohol in their mouths. “Well angel, any ideas?” Crowley asked with a tired look on his face.  
“11 years until the end, I say carpe diem while we still can, dear,” Aziraphale suggested with a small, playful, smirk.  
“No. I meant ideas to maybe, try and…prevent the end?” He said this glancing up then down as if making sure above and below aren’t eavesdropping. “Well we can always foresee his upbringing, we know where he lives and with who,” Aziraphale shrugged.  
“You mean like godfathers?” Crowleys eyes lit up at the thought.  
“Precisely,”  
“Godfathers” Crowley tested that word on his forked tongue to see how it sounded, “Well I’ll be damned.”  
“It’s not that bad when you get used to it,” Aziraphale said with a wink that made Crowley chuckle at his little joke.

The next day

Aziraphale burst down the door to the plant shop, metaphorically of course he’d never actually do anything to upset Crowley, and strode in his usual, casual, manner to the shop, “Darling, have I got news for you!” Crowley, however, was currently with a customer, when Aziraphale noticed this he knew better than to intrude so he just sat on the stool behind the counter and started reading a new Robert Louis Stevenson book Crowley got him while waiting. Crowley, of course, was extremely helpful to the young lady he served, who was looking for a new rose bush for her garden, giving her advice and brand recommendations for fertiliser. It only took him minutes before he was done. “Thank you ma’am and please do come again or if you have anymore questions,” with that she thanked him and left.

“So angel, what news have you got for me?” Crowley turned to his friend as he shut his book and looked up at him.  
“They need a nanny and gardener, perfect opportunity if you ask me,” Aziraphale stated triumphantly, giving Crowley his famous smirk.  
“Perfect!” Crowley exclaimed, “I’ll be the nanny.” Aziraphale gave him an odd look, crooking one perfect brow up while Crowley was still smiling. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’ll be the nanny,’? You’re the one with gardening experience out of the 2 of us,” Aziraphale reminded him, gesturing to all the greenery surrounding them in the shop.  
“Yes but which one of us can be trusted to look after a baby? Antichrist or not he’s still a fragile little human.” Aziraphale just looked at him and considered what Crowley said.  
“Er…point taken,” he eventually answered, the angel smiling victoriously as if he had just won a million quid in the lottery.

“I’ll meet you at their house then, get a good disguise angel because the competition for the jobs seemed to have miraculously disappeared for some reason.”

Dowling estate, 11 years before the apocalypse 

Crowley had watched Mary Poppins before, so he had an idea of what being a nanny would be like and knew the aesthetic well enough to master up a lovely beige and baby blue nanny outfit completely decked out with a carpet bag and umbrella. 

He strode confidently into the mansion and made a great impression on the parents, all he had to do now was to raise the Antichrist to be good. Not too long afterwards, a motorbike roared down the road reaching the estate. The demon climbed off in his black gardener’s costume complete with a hat and wellies, with a few minor demonic miracles of his own he was hired, now all he had to do was influence the Antichrist towards evil.

The aim: cancel each other out.

One sunny Wednesday afternoon young 5 year old Warlock wondered into the garden and saw Brother Francis at work. “Afternoon young Warlock,” Aziraphale said with as much of a genuine looking smile as he could master up. “Hello brother Francis, how are you today?”  
“I’m alright but these pesky slugs are eating up all the plants,” Aziraphale answered the curious child.  
“That’s terrible what will you do? You can’t let them eat the plants!” Aziraphale kneeled down to the boy’s level, “I’m going to grind them under my heel until they regret even trying to eat them,” he answered sweetly.  
“But nanny says all living things should be loved!” Warlock stated a little confused now.  
“You don’t listen to her young lad, you listen to me.”

Literally the next morning, when the birds chirped around the mansion, Warlock listened to the gardener. “I’m going to grind those birds under my heel until they regret waking me up!” The boy said during breakfast. “Oh and why is that my dear boy?” Nanny Rachael Ashtoreth asked the Antichrist as she looked up from her English breakfast, “Didn’t I tell you all creatures are to be loved?”  
“Brother Francis said to grind creatures you don’t like under your heel,” the boy replied simply.  
“Now, now my boy, you don’t listen to him. Listen to me,” said the nanny while rubbing golden curly locks out of the boy’s face. “Birds lay eggs and you like eggs, they make cake!” And with that a plate of chocolate cake appeared before the boy for when he finished his breakfast.

This continued for the next 6 years until a week before Armageddon after which they could only hope everything will go well and as planned.


	4. WW2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Church scene in 1941 rewritten with reversed roles

London, 1941

Crowley didn’t deal with books of prophecy much, that was Aziraphale’s game, what Crowley was dealing with were rare plants, particularly ones with miraculous healing properties. Currently, he was walking to a certain church in south London to deliver, said, miraculously healing plants.

He entered the church silently, taking his hat off and holding it to his chest, his bag of plants in his left hand. He walked down the aisle towards his customers, 2 Nazis who ordered the plants for the Fuhrer’s army, after all, these seemingly magical plants could be the turning point of the war to whichever side used them effectively.

“Good evening Mr. Glozier, Mr. Harmony,” Crowley said with a seemingly polite smile, looking at them both suspiciously. “Mr. Raphael, you’re late. Do you have the order?” Enquired Mr. Glozier, eying the angel carefully. At that question Crowley simply lifted the leather bag in his hands and handed it over. The 3 stood in silence for a moment as the Nazis examined the content of the bag to check if it was indeed correct, they then looked at him again. “The Fuhrer will be very happy with you Mr. Raphael, you will be a very rich man.”  
“Yes, well it’s a shame those plants will not be leaving England then, isn’t it?” As he said this a brunette lady in all black stepped from behind him with a gun. “Please meet, Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt, although I presume you’ve met since she was undercover to try and recruit me for you,” Crowley said quite smugly as he saw the shocked expressions of the, now, 3 Nazis. Priceless.

“How the hell did you know?”  
“Well except for the obviously fake accent, I do happen to know Captain Rose Montgomery personally,’ the angel smirked at them rather wickedly.  
“Pity that now you must die then isn’t it, she’ll miss you I’m sure,” Fraulein stated pointing her gun at him.   
“Not really for you see…” he put his hat back on, “a divine intervention will prevent my discorporation.” He was just about to reveal his wings and deal with them but as he finished the statement the heavy door at the back of the church swung open with brute force. All 4 of them glanced back to see a man in all black with light hair almost hopping down the aisle.

“Oh. Ouch, bloody consecrated ground!” He demon mumbled as he made his way over to them.  
“What in the name of heaven are you doing here?” Crowley hissed.  
“Making sure you don’t get into trouble!” Aziraphale replied.  
“I should’ve known, these people are working for you aren’t they, honestly you and your demonic work!”  
“Actually no, they’re just some half-written Nazi spies, I don’t sink that low dear,” Aziraphale scoffed.  
“Famous Mr. Aziraphale Z Fell, your reputation proceeds you,” Fraulein announced rather honoured to see him in the flesh.  
“Fell, really? That’s as creative as you got?”  
“You don’t like it?” Aziraphale looked at him hoping the angel did in fact liked it.  
“Oh no I didn’t say that, I’ll get used to it. What does the ‘Z’ stand for?” Crowley glanced at the demon, curiously.  
“It’s just a ‘Z’ really…” Aziraphale blurted out, here was no way he was going to admit what the ‘Z’ stood for at this moment.  
Aziraphale kept switching feet, making the angel take pity on him as he lifted the demon off the ground and held him in his arms, bridal style. As the demon glanced around the church, he’d never been in one before obviously, he came to notice a basin next to the alter. “Bloody hell, they just keep holy water out here in the open? Unguarded? That’s good to know,” he pointed out, out loud to no one in particular, the Nazis, who were pointing their guns at the duo, were just completely dumbfounded, not only was the angel holding the demon in his arms to keep him off the ground but the demon was so excited to see holy water in a church which, obviously, seemed weird to them.

“Anyway, it really is a shame that you 2 must die, especially you Mr. Fell, we could’ve used someone of your talents” announced Mr. Harmony as the Nazis seemed to be ignored by the duo. The duo looked at the Nazis, they almost forgot they were there actually.

Aziraphale cleared his throat and spoke up, “Well in a moment a German bomber will drop a bomb, right here actually. You’re wasting your precious escape time!”  
“You expect us to believe that? The bombs are falling on the East End tonight.” Mr. Glozier eyerolled.  
“Yes but it would take a last minute demonic intervention to throw them off course. You’re really wasting time here, my dear. And if in the next, let’s say, 30 seconds a bomb does land here, it would take a miracle for me and my dear friend here to survive it!” Crowley nodded at him, he knew what Aziraphale meant and looked at the Nazis too. “He’s not wrong you know” Crowley added.

Aziraphale just pointed a single finger upwards and you could just about hear the whistling sound of a falling bomb. Before they knew it the bomb was upon them and the explosion followed almost instantaneously. Now the angel and demon were standing in the ruins of the church and the demon, now out of the angels arms, said “well performed miracle my dear.” Crowley nodded, still not quite believing their little reckless plan worked. “Yes I guess so,” Crowley paused looking around, “Oh the plants! I forgot all about them, the poor things must’ve been blown up into pieces! Ive had those since Rome, now they’re all gone!” Crowley kept rambling on about his ‘poor’ plants while Aziraphale walked around the ruins to where one of the Nazi’s hands was poking out of the pieces of stone with a brown leather bag. After taking it he turned to the angel and held it out to him, that shut up his little rambling as he stared at the demon speechless. “Little demonic miracle of my own,” Aziraphale remarked with a smirk at Crowleys shocked expression. Crowley accepted the bag and clutched it to his chest, protectively, almost thanking him but stopping himself last minute, in fear of eavesdropping. 

“Lift home dear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m open to suggestions in the comments for what the Z stands for XD


	5. Oh Lord, heal this bike.

Aziraphale was on his motorcycle with Crowley holding on behind him, with miracles microphones in the helmets so they could speak to each other. “So what’s the plan angel” Crowley asked, holding onto the demon for dear life. “Not sure yet my dear, might need to improvise if theres nothing in the next 5 minutes,” Aziraphale replied, of course the 2 of them had a vague plan but no details were established between them, going to the old nunnery proved nothing they were back to square 1 so now they were on their way back to London. 

Who ,also, was on their way back home was Anathema Device. She was riding right towards the road, she just had to cross it to be on her merry way. The motorbike was speeding down the country road, in the speed limit for surprisingly, but the angel and demon were too preoccupied talking to notice Anathema on her bike.

Before any of them could comprehend the situation there was a crash and a young brunette with her bike gliding across the front of the demons bike. “Angel…” Crowley said in the aftershock, “You hit someone,” he held on tighter to the demon, he couldn’t quite believe he wasn’t discorporated. “I didn’t,” he turned to the angel, “Someone hit me.” They stared at each other for a moment before getting off the bike and taking their helmets off, leaving it on their seats. They walked cautiously towards, the now unconscious, Anathema. Her bike was clearly bent and she definitely had some broken bones. As Crowley strode closer he snapped his fingers, emitting light from the sky, just to take a peak at the scene clearly, before quickly snapping them again so the light doesn’t look suspicious.

The angel felt sorry for her as he knelt down to try and pick her up. “Only minor broken bones,” Crowley announced as he was already started miracle-ing away her injuries, “Nothing minor miracles won’t fix.” Aziraphale practically took Anathema from Crowley helping her up as the angel picked up the baby blue bike. Anathema was in complete shock “My bike…” she was surprised that she wasn’t injured or in any pain so now her concern was her ride home. “Yeah its in perfectly good condition, don’t worry,” Crowley replied knowing her concern, “Though I suppose we’d better take you home, as an apology for this accident.” Aziraphale glanced at the angel, annoyed.  
“How are we supposed to do that theres no room on the b…” he was cut off as he turned to see his beloved 1940s Harley Davidson turned into a 1940 maroon Bentley with a bike rack. He looked back at Crowley, who gave him an innocent look then glanced at the girl, Aziraphale knew that look meant ‘I’ll pay you back later but for now please do this for me.’ Aziraphale sighed, how could he refuse his angel anything.

Aziraphale helped the angel load the bike on the rack and the 3 of them got into the car. As they drove through the night “Bicycle race” by Queen played through the radio, Crowley happily humming to his favourite band. Anathema glanced at her bike on the reach through the back window, it had gears. “Hey, um, my bike has gears, it never had gears. I know my bike doesn’t have gears,” she leaned forward and looked at them, Aziraphale just kept his eyes on the road, casually and Crowley looked guilty. “Oh Lord, heal this bike,” Aziraphale murmured, as if he was singing a hymn. “I got carried away angel,” Crowley hissed in defence, still looking guilty but making a note to fix that mistake later. They mostly drove in silence with the occasional directions Anathema gave them along the way.

When they arrived at the cottage, Crowley got the bike off the rack and and wheeled it to the fence. When Anathema got out he made sure to point out “Oh would you look at that! No gears,” before standing beside the Bentley making sure she got in safely. Now that Anathema thought about the situation she realised how dangerous it was, getting a lift home in the middle of the night with complete strangers, even though she knew Agnes would’ve warned her if that was the case. “Alright my dear,” Aziraphale said getting in the car “ We’re going home.”  
“Coming Angel,” he replied turning to Anathema and politely waving her goodbye as Aziraphale scoffed, before getting into the car himself. That was the moment Anathema realised she was completely save and had nothing to worry about after all.

As the Bentley drove through the night it transformed back into its Harley Davidson glory with Crowley tightly holding onto the demons waist as the motorbike picked up the speed. “Thank you for not arguing with me on that one angel,” Crowley smiled in his helmet knowing Aziraphale heard him through the microphone, in response the demon just rolled his eyes, smiling, but of course the angel didn’t see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry didn’t really have the patience to proof read this chapter so any mistakes, please let me know.


	6. Somebody to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light angst you have been warned and an f bomb dropped. Short chapter.

London, Soho, day of Armageddon

Aziraphale was making his way to Crowley’s plant shop, he wasn’t picking up his phone which was rare so he was getting worried. He swerved around the cars on his bike, speeding to the shop almost begging Satan everything was ok. They had an argument, yes, he did say that when he was up in the stars he wouldn’t even think about him, yes, but he didn’t mean it. He was really just upset that Crowley didn’t want to come with him.

The engine of the bike roared coming up to the bend next to the shop. Fire. It was covered in flames, Aziraphale was mortified. He couldn’t tell if it was hellfire or not but did it actually matter? The bloody shop was on fire.

He got off his bike, practically throwing his helmet off, striding towards the plant shop. “Sir! Sir are you the owner of this establishment?” One of the firemen yelled at him as he walked towards the shop. Aziraphale groaned, “Do I look like I run a plant show?” He yelled back in annoyance, was this really important right now he thought to himself. He hopped up the shop’s step into the inferno, miracling the doors open as he did so.

“Crowley!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, “Crowley , for Go… for Sat… for Somebody’s sake! Where the hell are you?” Now he was getting desperate, “Raphael!” He rarely called him that but right now he just wanted to find him. He rapidly snapped his head in every direction possible trying to find any trace of his angel. Suddenly, the water from the fire truck’s hose crashed through the window and pushed the demon onto the floor. 

Now he was bottled up with rage, was Crowley discorporated? Was he dead for good? Will he ever see him again? He didn’t know the answer to any. He should’ve never left him alone. “SOMEBODY KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!” He screeched regretting everything he said to him in their last argument, now wishing he could take it all back. Then he would’ve been here when it happened and would’ve been able to save him.

“BASTARDS!” He almost sobbed out, holding back his, never seen before, tears.  
“BASTARDS ALL OF YOU!”

The record layer was still playing behind him, the track changing from You’re my best friend to Somebody to love by Queen. This just infuriated him even more, his angel loved Queen after all (he personally was more of an ABBA fan). He then noticed a book, the book the bicycle girl left behind, Nice and Accurate Prophecies by Agnes Nutter, he tucked it into his jacket half heartedly. Maybe it’ll come in useful, but really he just wanted something to remember Crowley by and everything else was basically ash by now.

He stumbled to his feet, enraged, his angel was gone and whoever did this is completely and utterly fucked, for a lack of a better term. He strode towards the door carelessly, sighing as he miracled the doors open.

When he stepped out he stood under the sign of A.R Crowley & Co, not entirely sure what to do now, he was completely alone, he never felt this alone in 6000 years. Well better get used to that feeling again he thought as he strode out of the burning inferno completely and got back onto his bike. What was there to do now? Nothing really. Crowley was gone, Armageddon was upon him literally today. He might as well go drinking to a bar one last time and drink before they get taken away too.

Aziraphale let the engine ignite and roar as he sped down the road again. He was on his own side now, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry i felt like writing angst so I did a short angst chapter. Hope you’ve enjoyed ^^


	7. Chapter 7

The Globe Theatre, London, 1601

The demon stood in the theatre, he was rather enjoying this new play Shakespeare whipped up. “Hamlet” was quite a peculiar name in his opinion, after all people lived in hamlets (for those who don’t know a hamlet is a place of living smaller than a village and usually (in Britain) didn’t have a church in it) he personally quite liked hamlets too, no concentrated ground to worry about.

While he waited for the angel, Aziraphale nicked some grapes from the poor lady selling them without her noticing. Their were quite sweet, just as he liked them, so he was rather pleased with himself. As he curiously watched the play rehearsal, the angel he was waiting for entered the theatre and made his way towards him. The angel miracled a coin into the grape lady’s apron pocket when he noticed the grapes in the demon’s hands.

The angel quickly joined him by his side with his hands behind his back, now looking in the direction of the play himself. “I thought you said we’d be inconspicuous here,” Crowley said in a hushed, polite tone, “blend in with the crowd? Or something like that.”  
“Well yeah, that was the idea my dear,” Aziraphale said looking around and now noticing the severe lack of people in the theatre’s pit.

“Hang on!” A voice came from the back of the theatre. “This isn’t one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones is it?” The angel asked and the demon didn’t reply, he looked a little guilty actually for what seemed like no reason, “Of course, no wonder there’s nobody’s here then!” he groaned.  
“Shush it’s him, it’s him!” Aziraphale whisper screamed enthusiastically, his face lighting up instantly.

William Shakespeare made his way over to them, doing an awkward hopping jog which no one seemed to question. “Prithee gentles,” the playwright said with a smile, “Might I request a small favour? Could you, in the role of the audience, give us more to work with?”  
“You mean like when the ghost of his father came on and I yelled ‘he’s behind you’?” Aziraphale asked doubtfully.   
“Yes! Just so. That would be jolly helpful. Made everyone on stage feel appreciated. A bit more of that. Good Master Burbage, please. Speak your lines trippingly!”   
“I am wasting my time here!” The actor yelled from the stage above them.  
“Oh no! No, you’re very good I like all the…talking,” Crowley protested, trying to be polite. It didn’t matter if he didn’t like Shakespeare’s “gloomy” plays, that was no reason for the actors to feel disheartened.

The actor almost rolled his eyes. “And what does your friend think?” He asked glancing over at the demon who was silently eating his grapes. “Oh! He’s not my friend,” Crowley blurted out “We’ve never met before, we don’t know each other,” he rambled on a bit. He didn’t want upstairs hearing that they’re ‘friends’ they’d shove him in hellfire for it.

“I think…” Aziraphale started, “You should get on with the play. I was enjoying it until you stopped.”  
The playwright looked at the duo then at the actor a few times over, “Yes. Burbage from the top!”  
The actor stepped back to centre stage, “To be or not to be. That is the question!”  
“To be!” Cheered Aziraphale.  
“I think you mean ‘not to be,’ angel” Crowley corrected. “Come on Hamlet!” He then cheered making the demon smile at him.

“Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows…”

“He’s very good isn’t he,” the demon leaned in and whispered as the speech went on.  
“Age does not wither, nor custom stale his infinite vanity,” he replied smugly, he was working on his poetic wording lately just to see more of that divinely damned smile. The playwright looked at the angel and stroked his beard, “Hmm, I like that.” And with that he walked away.

The angel watched him walk away, until he was out of hearing distance. “So angel, what did you want?” Aziraphale turned back to Crowley and continued eating his grapes.  
“Why would you insinuate that I might possibly want something dear?”  
“Well you’re always up to no good aren’t you?” Crowley said matter-of-factly taking a grape from Aziraphale’s serviette and eating it, he had to admit it was delicious. “Well obviously my dear. And you’re up to good, many good deeds I’d presume, being a mighty Archangel and all.” Crowley rolled his eyes at that last part, he knew the demon liked to frequently take a mick out of the angel’s status. “Yes well, I have a trip to Edinburgh at the end of the week,” he said taking another grape from the demon, “A couple of blessings, a minor miracle. Apparently I have to ride a horse,” he scoffed at that a little.

The demon glanced at the angel, “Indeed, hard on the buttocks, horses. Major design flaw if you ask me,” he ate another grape, “I’m meant to be heading there too. Tempting a clan leader to steal cattle.”  
“Well that doesn’t sound hard,”  
“That’s what I was thinking. Why waste effort if both of us are heading to the same place?”  
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Crowley asked, looking at Aziraphale sceptically.  
“And what would that be?” The demon asked with a cheeky, flirtatious side glance.  
“One of us goes to Edinburgh, does both, blessing and tempting, then comes back as if nothing happened,” Crowley replied a little bit guilty.  
“We’ve done it before, dozens of times!The Arrangement…”  
“Yes I know angel, don’t say it,” he glanced up and down cautiously.  
“Our lovely head offices don’t actually care how the work is done as long as they can cross it off the list,” he stated, it wasn’t a novelty.  
“Yes but I’ll get a light scolding in Heaven, in Hell however…” he shook his head “they won’t just be angry. They’d destroy you!”   
“No one has to know dear,” he rummaged around in his pocket and held up a coin. “Toss you for Edinburgh.”

Crowley scoffed, rolled his eyes before remembering this could work in his favour, “fine. Heads.” The demon flipped the coin. It flew into the air before it was caught then slapped to be revealed on the back of his hand. “Tails. You’re going to Scotland dear.”

Closer to the stage, William Shakespeare was talking to the snack lady. “It’s been like this every performance Juliet. Complete dud!” He sighed, “It’ll take a miracle for anyone to come and see Hamlet!” He cried out.

The duo was looking at him before Aziraphale’s gaze shifted back to the angel with an almost sad look on his face. The angel looked at him and sighed, “Yes alright! I’ll do that one. My treat.”  
“Oh really?” The demon’s smile beamed like light all of a sudden. “That’s nice of you,” he half joked.  
“Still prefer the funny ones,” Crowley said as he started walking away towards the door, sulking that he’s the one going all the way up to Scotland, on horseback of all things. The demon smiled as he was finishing off his grapes and watching the play.

Bonus!!

Crowley sulked as he rode up to Scotland, it would take days for Heaven’s sake! At least it wasn’t raining yet, but the clouds were going grey above him so it would probably start soon. “Stupid demon with his stupid smile and his stupid coin toss!” He complained. “This saddle is a bloody pain in the arse! Who invented these stupid things! Even those stupid chariots the Romans invented were better than this!” He kept riding, complaining to himself about how much his arse hurt and how that damned demon got the better of him. “What on earth was I thinking agreeing to that coin toss! Moment of bloody weakness that’s what! Procrastinating from my duties that’s what!” Little did the angel know that when the angel declared heads the coin was miraculously rigged to have tails on both sides. Take a lesson from this, never trust a demon in a coin toss.


	8. Do ducks have ears?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale living in Victorian England. This is their meeting in St Jame’s Park.

St. Jame’s Park, London, 1862

Crowley was standing in St. Jame’s Park one sunny afternoon, feeding the ducks in the pond. They gobbled up the bread happily and he let himself smile a little. He was waiting for the demon who requested an emergency meeting less than a day ago.

The demon walked up to him, occasionally glancing around, before standing next to him looking at the ducks in the pond. After one of the ducks ate one bit of bread Crowley threw out, it immediately sunk under water. “Was that really necessary angel?” Crowley sighed.  
The demon eye rolled, “it wasn’t intentional.”  
“Anyway, what was so urgent about this meeting?”

The demon shifted a little, adjusting his bow tie before speaking. “I’ve been thinking, what if it all goes wrong? We have a lot in common. You and me.”  
“Not sure, of course we both started off as angels but you did fall,” replied Crowley, he hated bringing up his friend’s fall but sometimes it kind of slipped out.  
“I didn’t really fall. I just…” he mumbled after this “Sainted vaguely downwards. Anyway I need a favour.”  
“ We have the Arrangement angel. Stay out of each other’s way, lend a hand when needed, pretend nothing happened,” Crowley pointed out throwing another bit of bread to the ducks.  
“This is different! For if it all goes pear-shaped…”  
“I like pear trees.” Crowley smiled.  
“Anyway if it all goes wrong I need insurance,” Aziraphale whispered desperately.  
“What kind of insurance?” Crowley looked at him cautiously, a little curious as to what he meant.

Aziraphale slipped a piece of folded paper out of his pocket, “I wrote it down dear, walls have ears you know.” Crowley looked around, there are no walls in the park.  
“Well maybe not walls but trees? Trees have ears. Or ducks have ears. Do ducks have ears?” He looked at the demon taking the paper but not reading it yet. “Must do. Other wise how would they hear other ducks?” 

He now unfolded the little piece of paper, his eyes widening before looking back at the demon. “Out of the question!”  
“Why not?” Aziraphale seemed surprised at this answer.  
“It will destroy you,” he hissed “I am not giving you a suicide pill Aziraphale!”  
“That’s not what I want it for! Just insurance,” the demon spat back at him.  
“I’m not an idiot angel! Do you know how much trouble I’d be in for giving this to you? Let alone them finding out I’ve been fraternising with a demon this whole time!” He whisper yelled.  
“Fraternising? Really? Out of all the words in the dictionary!”  
“Whatever you want to call it then. I’m not discussing this further! My answer is no!”  
“I have lots of people to fraternise with dear!” Aziraphale scoffed.  
“Of course you do.”  
“I don’t need you Raphael!” That stung Crowley, he never really called him “Raphael” they were closer than that, for him it was like calling him “sir” and it hurt.  
“I don’t need you either! Obviously.” With that the angel huffed, threw the paper into the pond and strode off angrily back to his plant shop. The paper started burning on the water, not sure who did that one.

“Obviously,” Aziraphale scoffed mocking the angel.

Bonus

Aziraphale was sitting at his candle lit desk with a journal upon his return from the meeting, he was still angry but picked up his quill anyway, eye rolling slightly. He flipped through the pages coming across the one he wrote that morning.

Dear diary,

Today I’m meeting with the ever so lovely Crowley. I cannot wait, not just because I have a favour to ask of him but because he’s just such a dreamy gentleman. By the way Oscar Wilde, my lovely acquaintance, invited me for tea after the meeting.

He flipped the page onto a clean one and started writing.

Dear diary,St. Jame’s Park, London, 1862

Crowley was standing in St. Jame’s Park one sunny afternoon, feeding the ducks in the pond. They gobbled up the bread happily and he let himself smile a little. He was waiting for the demon who requested an emergency meeting less than a day ago.

The demon walked up to him, occasionally glancing around, before standing next to him looking at the ducks in the pond. After one of the ducks ate one bit of bread Crowley threw out, it immediately sunk under water. “Was that really necessary angel?” Crowley sighed.  
The demon eye rolled, “it wasn’t intentional.”  
“Anyway, what was so urgent about this meeting?”

The demon shifted a little, adjusting his bow tie before speaking. “I’ve been thinking, what if it all goes wrong? We have a lot in common. You and me.”  
“Not sure, of course we both started off as angels but you did fall,” replied Crowley, he hated bringing up his friend’s fall but sometimes it kind of slipped out.  
“I didn’t really fall. I just…” he mumbled after this “Sainted vaguely downwards. Anyway I need a favour.”  
“ We have the Arrangement angel. Stay out of each other’s way, lend a hand when needed, pretend nothing happened,” Crowley pointed out throwing another bit of bread to the ducks.  
“This is different! For if it all goes pear-shaped…”  
“I like pear trees.” Crowley smiled.  
“Anyway if it all goes wrong I need insurance,” Aziraphale whispered desperately.  
“What kind of insurance?” Crowley looked at him cautiously, a little curious as to what he meant.

Aziraphale slipped a piece of folded paper out of his pocket, “I wrote it down dear, walls have ears you know.” Crowley looked around, there are no walls in the park.  
“Well maybe not walls but trees? Trees have ears. Or ducks have ears. Do ducks have ears?” He looked at the demon taking the paper but not reading it yet. “Must do. Other wise how would they hear other ducks?” 

He now unfolded the little piece of paper, his eyes widening before looking back at the demon. “Out of the question!”  
“Why not?” Aziraphale seemed surprised at this answer.  
“It will destroy you,” he hissed “I am not giving you a suicide pill Aziraphale!”  
“That’s not what I want it for! Just insurance,” the demon spat back at him.  
“I’m not an idiot angel! Do you know how much trouble I’d be in for giving this to you? Let alone them finding out I’ve been fraternising with a demon this whole time!” He whisper yelled.  
“Fraternising? Really? Out of all the words in the dictionary!”  
“Whatever you want to call it then. I’m not discussing this further! My answer is no!”  
“I have lots of people to fraternise with dear!” Aziraphale scoffed.  
“Of course you do.”  
“I don’t need you Raphael!” That stung Crowley, he never really called him “Raphael” they were closer than that, for him it was like calling him “sir” and it hurt.  
“I don’t need you either! Obviously.” With that the angel huffed, threw the paper into the pond and strode off angrily back to his plant shop. The paper started burning on the water, not sure who did that one.

“Obviously,” Aziraphale scoffed mocking the angel.

Bonus

Aziraphale was sitting at his candle lit desk with a journal upon his return from the meeting, he was still angry but picked up his quill anyway, eye rolling slightly. He flipped through the pages coming across the one he wrote that morning.

Dear diary,

Today I’m meeting with the ever so lovely Crowley. I cannot wait, not just because I have a favour to ask of him but because he’s just such a dreamy gentleman. By the way Oscar Wilde, my lovely acquaintance, invited me for tea after the meeting.

He flipped the page onto a clean one and started writing.

Dear diary,

I met with Raphael today. I can not believe the audacity of that bloody angel! He doesn’t understand anything! I thought for the past millennia that he did but clearly I have been mistaken. All I asked him for was insurance, with what we’ve been through and how close we’ve gotten I thought it wouldn’t be too much to ask but that bloody beautiful angel doesn’t get it. Bastard, absolute bastard! I doubt I’ll talk him for a few hundred years. Maybe I’ll take a century long nap?

On a brighter note, that author Oscar Wilde is definitely wild I’m telling you. Such a pleasure to be around and very educational. He asks me to read some of his work every now and then, maybe I’ll tempt him into giving me some first editions of his.

With that Aziraphale shut his journal and gave a content sigh. Of course he was still mad at Crowley but Oscar Wilde always had a way of cheering him up even just thinking about him. Speaking of the devil, he should pay him a visit. He deserved a little fun.

I met with Raphael today. I can not believe the audacity of that bloody angel! He doesn’t understand anything! I thought for the past millennia that he did but clearly I have been mistaken. All I asked him for was insurance, with what we’ve been through and how close we’ve gotten I thought it wouldn’t be too much to ask but that bloody beautiful angel doesn’t get it. Bastard, absolute bastard! I doubt I’ll talk him for a few hundred years. Maybe I’ll take a century long nap?

On a brighter note, that author Oscar Wilde is definitely wild I’m telling you. Such a pleasure to be around and very educational. He asks me to read some of his work every now and then, maybe I’ll tempt him into giving me some first editions of his.

With that Aziraphale shut his journal and gave a content sigh. Of course he was still mad at Crowley but Oscar Wilde always had a way of cheering him up even just thinking about him. Speaking of the devil, he should pay him a visit. He deserved a little fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you’ve enjoyed. I’m planning on writing the crucifixion scene, the scene in Rome, the French Revolution scene and the 60s. Maybe not in that order but I’ll see how it goes. Sorry it’s not chronological some scenes are harder to switch roles in than others especially that I kinda want to try and keep their personalities the same and not just switch the names.


End file.
